


Read The Tragedies of Our Past

by ZookyBlues



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Other, Slow Burn, Time Travelling Karl Jacobs, Web Series: Tales from the SMP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29855706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZookyBlues/pseuds/ZookyBlues
Summary: Karl, lost and somewhat hopeless, finds his way to what used to be the Kinoko Kingdom. But the only thing that remains is the tales that were left behind.Karl slowly learns about a man who was full of admiration for the one called “Sapnap”. Over each tale, his desire for truth gets deeper. When in reality, the truth he seeks was right in front of him.
Relationships: Sapnap/Karl Jacobs
Kudos: 15





	Read The Tragedies of Our Past

**Author's Note:**

> I’m planning on updating this weekly, so look forward to that. But Hello! This is my first ship fic, so please be patient with me. I adore Karl Tales of The SMP, and got this idea on a whim. Btw, sorry it it seems rushed, I didn’t want to make it boring so I cut back on immense amount of detail. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment of criticism or just anything in general, I love to read what anyone has to say.

Karl was lost, simply put. Around him thick towering trees stood, blocking the rays of sun from entering the forest. Soft grass was flattened by his feet as he continued through the thicket. The calming sound of wind rustling through the trees rung through Karl’s ears. Glancing around, he saw small red mushrooms blooming from the cracks between rocks. His mind went fuzzy at the sight of them. He threw his head back, gazing at the leaves above. 

He had no recollection of getting here, not that his memory was that good anyway. A sudden rustle next to him sent him into an immediate panic. Stumbling over his feet, he landed on the cold, hardened floor. Glancing in the direction of the noise, a white tuft of hair became visible. He slowly brought himself onto his knees, squinting. The head of a large horse emerged from the bushes, a stick shoved between its strong jaws. He sighed with relief at the appearance of the majestic beast. Heaving himself to his feet, he dusted off his pants. The horse continued to stare at Karl, till finally turning its head toward the vast forest capturing them. It let out a gentle whine, before walking away from Karl. Karl has always been a cautious person, but if curiosity killed the cat, then he’s walking right into its trap. He began to wonder from his original course, stepping over boulder obstructing his path. The horse continued to walk and Karl obediently followed. 

The trees around them slowly thinned and more color began to sprout around them. Flowers of all colors caught Karl’s attention. The trees now almost completely dispersed, he now found himself in a field. He stopped for a moment, taking in his surroundings. The horse was calmly grazing on the various flowers that covered the ground. Only when Karl did a full 360, did he see what truly lay in the flower field. 

He fell back, simply awestruck. Before him was a large building made of dark, rotting wood. Red mushrooms filled in the area that had no wood, contrasting beautifully with the exterior. Thick green vines curled around each curve and crevice of the building. Blatantly showing the history this building possessed. He blinked, again and again. Not only did the mythical building leave his jaw agape, but a strong swelling of deja vu bubbled in his throat. He didn’t realize he had been staring for so long until the horse was behind him. It pushed his broad, white head into Karl’s back nudging him up. Karl followed the horse’s motion, pulling himself to his feet. The horse then trotted over to the building, disappearing into the large doorway. Karl slowly approached, his sense of cautiousness coming back to him. As he neared the building he noticed the damp smell of rotting wood. It was bigger up close, towering far above Karl’s head. The long grass tickled Karl’s ankles, he cocked his head to the left in genuine interest. 

The design carved into the wood looked almost like a scribble, it swirled in on itself. The door was long rotted away, leaving the inside visible for Karl. He peeked inside, gripping the moist wooden doorway in case anything decided to jump at him. Once sure he was safe, he stepped into the open room. Darkness gripped his visions, for the only source of light was the sun peeking in through the doorway. The inside of the building was massive, meeting at the top in a dome. Karl circled, taking in everything around him, only to jump at the sudden light of candles. One by one, the room became lit by simple candlelight. Karl quickly glanced around, searching for any possible being beside himself. But to his despair, he only spotted the large horse, munching on the vines that encased the monument. 

The walls were lined with bookshelves, ranging all the way up to the ceiling. The air was thick with dust, Karl let out a gentle cough from the scratchy feeling in his throat. A fuzzy red carpet decorated the floor, a spruce trap door displayed in the center of the room. Karl glanced at the wall nearest to him, it sported a large banner. A semi-circle resembling a mushroom cap, with blue and green in horizontal stripes, were showcased on the piece of cloth. Though the colors were distorted from age and the edges were ragged from the harsh atmosphere. Karl squinted at the familiarity of the pattern but cast the thought aside. He then wandered over to the trap door, slowly reaching down to peel it open. It creaked open with a puff of dust. Leaving Karl gasping and coughing. Once the air thinned, Karl peered down the hole. The door revealed a deep tunnel down, a ladder being the way of transportation. He shifted, debating whether to traverse or not. I mean, I’m already in this far. What truly could happen? Karl still had no idea where or how he had gotten here, but the deeper he meandered into the library, the more seemed so familiar to him. He slowly began descending down the ladder, it creaked and shook under him. But he held on tight, hands sweaty from gripping the splintering wood aggressively. 

After what felt like forever, he eventually reached the ground. The room around him was smaller than the dome but still was full of an immense labyrinth of bookshelves. In the middle of it, all was a desk. It was dust-coated, but a large candle was lit upon it, illuminating a subtle glow around the papers that scattered it. Karl slowly walked up to the round desk, looking at the many miscellaneous items that covered the surface. The thing that caught his eye was a line of neatly ordered books. Unlike every other object in the library, the books had no dust and the leather radiated no odor of age or rot. But instead a scent of freshness, he placed a shaky hand on the cover of the third book in the row. It was cool to the touch, smooth, and perfectly conditioned. Besides the books, the desk was covered in notes. Each written in a language Karl couldn’t decipher. He scanned each one until he finally landed on one written in English. He swiftly grasped the paper, excitement pulsing through his veins for a brief moment. 

The downside was when Karl picked up the paper, it had been torn in half. He brought the note to his face, beginning to read its contents. STAY ON THE PATH STAY ON THE PATH STAY ON THE PATH STAY ON THE PATH. The same thing was repeated over and over again, at least until the paper was divided in half. But as he rereads the phrase over and over again, the sudden image of a large heaven-like castle flashes through his thoughts. As fast as the image appeared, it disappeared. Karl leaned onto the desk, steadying himself. His vision going blurry before focusing again. Once he centered himself again, he dropped the paper back onto the desk. Moving on to examine the journals. Each had a number engraved on the front, they had been left in chronological order. As if someone knew Karl would be here, the thought sent a shiver down his spine. He slowly moved to grasp the first book, it was thick, pages slightly yellowed but still in pristine condition. He carefully flipped to the first page. Written in a dirty cursive “The Town That Went Mad” Karl flipped through the pages, noticing the change in handwriting, from a silky cursive to a rough, messy scribble of jumbled letters. He set the journal down, now picking up the second.

Something about this book seemed different. When he sifted through the pages to the beginning the words “The Beach Episode-Tanned skin, his was so beautiful.” Karl’s eyebrows furrowed, who was “him”? He had no clue, but something felt intriguing, he had a pull somewhere deep within him. Begging him to fall deeper into the tale, he couldn’t resist the urge that grabbed at him. He flipped to the first page and began to read. From the very first line, he felt as though he was one with the tale, like he had once experienced it. Maybe he was just psycho, or maybe he had experienced it. It didn’t matter to him at the moment. The only thought plaguing his mind was a rather simple one, the strange thought of “who is he”? It was an odd feeling, feeling like you know someone, but for them to equally be a stranger. The feeling latched at Karl’s throat, pulling him deeper. As he began to read, he slipped even deeper into the inevitable. So deep, he was afraid he would never be able to find his way out. January 9th, 2021 “The Beach Episode”...


End file.
